


Charming (Or Something like That)

by aijee



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Fantasy, Fluff, Humor, Kino's a witch, M/M, Pining, Yuto's an expert in charms (kind of)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 06:12:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aijee/pseuds/aijee
Summary: Yuto's just here for the training and pay, honestly. Something a little mundane would be great for his blood pressure.





	Charming (Or Something like That)

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted witch!kino what can i say

“Huh. That’s weird.”

“Did Mr. Jung accidentally summon a hellhound again?” Hyojong asks, exasperated, from the back table. “Knowing Mrs. Jung these days, I wouldn’t call it weird.”

“Or an accident,” Yuto adds from the front desk.

Being an apprentice to Hyojong—a young, eccentric charms expert known far and wide for his young, eccentric charms—makes Yuto pretty used to the more exciting sides of magic.

Their leg of the shopping district is a brewing pot of front-page newspaper articles, ranging from runaway brooms to mishandled teleportation portals to experimental charms gone terribly, regrettably wrong, most of which is Hyojong’s fault. His notoriety is pretty mixed, to say the least.

Yuto’s just here for the training and pay, honestly. Something a little mundane would be great for his blood pressure.

“I mean there’s a new store opening nearby,” Yuto clarifies. “Beside the one in front of us.”

“In this wing?” Hyojong snorts. “Can’t wait to see how quickly they’ll get to know the Jungs.”

“Wooseok’s cool.”

“He loves non-mag culture too much. His pineapple obsession lately is unnerving.”

Yuto squints at the greenery on the other side of the street. “Looks like it’ll be botanicals. Aromas, maybe? Based on all the flora and pots outside, at least.”

“Aw, how adorable. And PG.” The parchment scraps Hyojong is using start crackling. That’s not good. “As long as they aren’t testy fuckers like the wand shop on 49th-and-a-half, then I happily welcome them. God knows we need something normal around here.”

“Normal,” Yuto echoes quietly, not feeling particularly excited as enchanted vines wriggle themselves over the rickety doorframe of the upcoming storefront. The young man outside pays them no need, instead choosing to converse with the lilies in the mason jar he’s holding.

Just then, something whizzes past Yuto’s ear, barely brushing his earring before shooting through the charm shop’s wall. It almost impales the young man’s skull if not for the time-stop spell Yuto nearly screams out in his usual panic with Hyojong’s unmonitored antics.

The young man, oddly calm, looks in their direction. And _smiles_.

Yuto ducks under the front desk in more panic. Hyojong starts waving through the window less in apology and more in greeting.

“I like him,” Hyojong says happily, returning to whatever else he’ll probably set on fire.

Yuto groans. He can feel his blood pressure rising already.

 

 

 

A few days later, Hyojong hands Yuto a small paper bag and some of Changgu’s special sweet peppermint tea.

“Presents for the new guy,” Hyojong says, stick of dragon bark between his teeth. Yuto vaguely remembers learning about the mild toxins in dragon bark, but Hyojong survived Jinho’s rent rage last month so he’ll probably survive. “A few growth charms for the leaf children and a protection ward for unsavory customers,” Hyojong explains further. “He’s probably got his own wards, but a couple more wouldn’t hurt.”

Yuto blinks slowly. “Okay. So why are you giving them to me?”

Hyojong answers by steering Yuto towards the door and kicking him out with his boot. Rude.

“As my underling—

“Legally, I’m an apprentice—”

“As my _underling,_ you are obligated to carry out menial tasks that require physical exertion and social interaction. Go forth, young steed, and spread my good, philanthropic name amongst the young and innocent.”

“You are a source of corruption in a world where purity is scarce.”

Hyojong snaps his fingers so Yuto’s legs start moving on their own. “Say hello to the owner for me! Maybe you’ll make a friend who doesn’t shove good quills into spiky fruits!”

Yuto quickly snaps his fingers to stop his legs, but damn his gangly length because he’s already standing in front of the sign for Rose & Clover. The words and decorative flowers look hand-painted.

Yuto calls out a soft “Hello?” once the shop’s safety wards chime him.

He’s pleasantly surprised to find the air slightly tinged with fresh bamboo and midnight magnolias. The brick walls have been roughly laid over in pale white wood, and plants of all walks of life are placed in every conceivable corner there aren’t aroma bottles. Near the display window sits a well-worn leather couch and antique coffee table. A very homey atmosphere, it is.

“Yes? How can I help you?”

Yuto turns around to find the young man from a few days ago dusting off his hands. There’s a black apron hugging a slim body slimmer, fringe held back with a spotty clip and _oh_ Yuto’s never seen teeth that symmetrical before.

Wow, this guy is handsome.

Now, you would expect Yuto to say something like, _Hi, I work at the charms place across the street. My boss—yeah the one who almost made a hole in your head?—he wanted me to give this to you. Welcome to the West Wing. Watch out for Mr. Jung’s hellhound! And my boss!_

Yuto actually says, and rather dumbly, “Wow, you’re handsome.”

The aroma shop owner’s eyes widen in surprise, and Yuto swears he sees nymph glitter or something of equally enticing sparkle in them. But instead of kicking Yuto out for being a total creep with a suspicious paper bag and drink, the owner smiles. Again.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he nods, eyes crinkling. Then he cordially extends a hand. “I’m Hyunggu. I own the place, but I guess you already knew that. Nice to meet you!”

“Yuto, and, uh, same. The ‘nice to meet you part,’ not the, um, ‘owning the place’ part. Obviously.” The charms apprentice takes Hyunggu’s hand in his. It feels warm and strong, just like—nope, _nope_. Yuto has to be cool and aloof, goddamn it.

But then something lights up in Hyunggu’s face at the sound of Yuto’s name, and twenty years of image-building crumbles to nothing if it hadn’t already. “I suspected you weren’t from around here,” Hyunggu guesses cheerfully. “I kept telling Rose and Clover, but they didn’t believe me.”

“Rose and Clover? Like the shop?” Yuto nearly falls back into panic mode. “ _Am I inside the mouth of a living creature.”_

Hyunggu laughs, waves his hand dismissively as if being consumed by a living creature isn’t even remotely terrifying. “I meant my familiars, Rose and Clover.” He nods his head to the couch, where two cats, one burgundy and the other cream beige, are sleeping. “They’ve been really whiny since the move. Makes sense, having always preferred the countryside.”

“I have never related more to spawns of hell in my life—” Yuto, realizing the implication of his words, clamps his mouth and immediately looks apologetic. _Get your shit together Yuto._ “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

Hyunggu’s bright expression doesn’t falter. Also, has his hair always been purple? “Honestly, demons are exactly what they are,” Hyunggu says, shrugging. “All they do is argue with me and cause me trouble. I still love them, though.”

“Yah, Kang Hyunggu,” a voice calls from the back of the store, “Would you stop admiring yourself in the glass and help me set up all these filters? Why the hell would you order _thirteen?_ Just because Hongseok is sick today doesn’t mean—”

“And I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Hyunggu sighs, looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry for cutting this so short. I didn’t anticipate my assistant catching the flu, so moving in has taken longer than expected.” Yuto has no idea why Hyunggu bothers apologizing since they’re basically going to see each other every day from now on.

Oh. Fuck.

“Maybe we can talk again soon?”

Yuto suddenly remembers why he’s there in the first place. “Oh, uh, here are some presents. From Hyojong. My boss. And me, I guess. I, um, here—”

Yuto sort of shoves the wrinkly paper bag of charms and now-lukewarm tea into Hyunggu’s hands, then he flees the shop, a faint “good-bye” trailing behind him. Yuto definitely regrets not paying enough attention during portals class.

The moment he sees Hyojong, Yuto throws a balding spell in his boss’s direction. Hyojong easily counters it before tossing back a truth spell Yuto is still too inexperienced to avoid.

“The aroma shop owner is really cute,” Yuto blurts, blushing immediately after. Hyojong smirks over his ink pots.

 

 

 

Yuto is absolutely beat by the time the shop closes for the day.

For a necromancer, Yanan’s a total peach on his good days but today is not one of them. By the time Yanan had left, charm for a good night’s sleep in tow, Yuto had wrangled up too many animate skeletons for a good night’s sleep of his own.

“I kind of wanted one,” Hyojong admits in wonder, eyes a perpetual state of _I’ve-seen-some-shit_ to be fazed by tonight’s events. “Low-budget companionship, not having any stomach or lungs.”

Before Yuto has the chance to discuss the riveting pros (there are none) and cons (there are many) of owning a dead animal brought back to life by sheer malice towards “uneducated plebeians” who think Mandarin sounds anything like Southern Elvish, someone walks through the front door.

“Hey bud, ya blind or what?” Hyojong throws over his shoulder. “The sign says CLOSED for a reason.”

“Sorry, reading wasn’t my best skill in school,” the guy deadpans. In fact, he looks so dead-tired he might as well join the skeletons. Yuto would. “Name’s Shinwon,” _ah_ Yuto recognizes that voice, “You know the shop that smells like an edgy grandma? Yeah, I don’t work there, but I’ve been betrayed by friendship and threatened into pack mule status for the night, so here.”

Shinwon extends to Yuto a small box covered in cotton wrappings and a ribbon before he’s gone as quickly as he had arrived.

When Yuto opens the box, he’s met with a small crystal bottle. It’s a very beautiful one, covered in intricate markings and small gems and a cute, squiggly signature at the base. Yuto can easily imagine Hyunggu signing it off with his toothy, goofy smile, the one Yuto can’t stop thinking about these days—

Hyojong coughs. “Well?”

“It’s a perfume bottle,” Yuto says.

“No shit, they run an aroma shop.”

“It’s _just_ the bottle. It’s empty.”

“I’m assuming there was a point to this,” Hyojong comments blandly. “But I’m, like, as far away from that point as possible. Also, when you stop drooling, there’s a howling letter you could open.”

Yuto colors profusely when he surrenders the bottle to Hyojong and plucks out the envelope from the box. Once the wax is broken, the paper inside immediately flutters out.

The paper flaps to the lilt of Hyunggu’s voice. _“Dear Hyojong and Yuto—”_

Yuto chokes at his own name.

_“—this is Kang Hyunggu, the owner Rose & Clover. With a warm heart, I would like to thank you for your welcoming gifts with a gift of my own. It’s a special bottle I made myself during one of my overseas travels. Feel free to stop by and fill it with whichever aroma suits your fancy. I’d be happy to customize something for you as well. Hope to see you soon!”_

“If there’s two of us, why is there only one bottle?” Yuto wonders aloud.

Hyojong snorts. “There’s a reason why that Shinwon fellow handed it to you.”

“He could’ve mistaken me for the owner—”

“Please, don’t flatter yourself.”

Yuto sighs, face warm and smile fighting its way there.

It succeeds. Hyojong’s fake gagging noises will probably follow Yuto to his grave, which he hopes Yanan won’t re-animate him out of.

(“What should I fill it with?”

“Well, your hormones have been imbalanced lately—”

“Good night, Hyojong.”)

 

 

 

When Yuto enters Hyunggu’s shop the next day, empty aroma container in hand, he didn’t expect to be blinded upon entering. A combination of shiny teeth, large windows, and a shit-ton of glass bottles does just the trick.

“Yuto!” Hyunggu greets quite spritely. He sees what Yuto’s holding, and he just about bursts in excitement. “Oh, how exciting! What’ll it be? Something for energy? Or enhanced focus? _Ooh_ maybe a boosted immune system? I’m an expert in that one, if I do say so myself.”

“Um,” Yuto scratches the back of his neck, frantically searching his thoughts for the answer he practiced beforehand. “Maybe something for sleep? That’s been, um, hard to get. Lately.”

Hyunggu sticks his lip out all apologetically for no reason and it’s _so darn cute._ “Sleep charms not working? Those are usually more potent than aromas.”

“Got used to them after a while,” Yuto fibs easily. “Maybe a different medium will work better. Does your offer still stand?”

“I always— I mean _it_ always will,” Hyunggu chirps in response.

 

 

 

Yuto is coming back from the marketplace when he encounters Hyunggu again. Rather, Hyunggu forcibly makes his presence known by calling out Yuto’s name when Yuto tries to double-back the other direction.

“Yuto! Hey, Yuto!” Hyunggu yells out, fervently waving his arm back and forth even though Yuto definitely noticed him already. “Come over here! I need to show you something!”

Yuto wants to sink into the ground with how many people are staring at them now. There’s something stuck in his throat. Maybe it’s his heart (that traitor).

Begrudgingly, Yuto walks over to where Hyunggu is standing outside Rose & Clover.

Hyunggu opens his mouth to say something, but it changes when he spots the various baskets and bags draped all over Yuto. “Oh, you poor thing,” he coos, grabbing what Yuto is holding in his hands and making their skin touch for the briefest moment.

Yuto splutters, “Y-You don’t have to—”

“Don’t worry, I’m a lot stronger than I look.” A wink. Yuto cries a little more inside. “What an exciting bunch of things you’ve gotten! What’re they for?”

“They’re for the, uh, autumnal-winter rush we usually get,” Yuto explains, trying his darned hardest not to turn into a tomato. A tan sure comes in handy sometimes. “Charms for warmth, good spirits, shorter hangovers. They get popular around that time, and Hyojong does a good job with them—especially that last one.”

“I’ll bet.” Hyunggu chuckles and nods, his now-navy hair flouncing like a spot of evening in this morning hour. Yuto could honestly stare at Hyunggu’s hair and the way it shines in the light all day long, but that dream is abruptly curtailed when he feels impending doom fast-walking its way towards them.

“Yuto! There you are! Fucking _hell.”_

Damn, Yuto’s popularity is certainly at a record high today.

Yuto mutters a short protection spell for his nether regions before turning around with his most amiable smile. “Good morning, Jinho. How are you?”

“Fucking terrible,” Jinho answers quite sharply. “Your boss is nowhere to be found and I am _very_ irritated by it! He’s three months behind on rent already!”

Hyunggu is slowly inching behind Yuto in hiding. Yuto spells away the scarlet amusement on his own face.

Not that Jinho would even notice with the figurative steam rolling out of his ears. “What makes me even more annoyed is the fact that he can clearly pay for rent, but he just doesn’t! Who does he think he is!”

Yuto nods.

“Just because we’ve known each other for a while doesn’t mean he can just _ignore_ _paperwork!”_

Yuto nods again.

“When I get my hands on that bastard, I swear I’ll—”

Just then, an unfamiliar face emerges from the shop’s doors. “Hey, Hyunggu? How do I—oh, I’m sorry. Are you in the middle of something?”

“Hongseok,” Hyunggu breathes the name like it’s godsend. “Do you need something?”

“Nothing immediate,” Hongseok answers, glancing awkwardly between the three of them.

A pang of _something_ hits Yuto in the chest when he sees just how good-looking and _fit_ this Hongseok is. He imagines just how often the guy must work with Hyunggu. In close proximity. Every day. And it makes Yuto irritated, almost.

But then Yuto also sees the way Jinho’s fiery rage, as if by a calming spell, dissipates at the sight of Hongseok—who is doing a terrible job of hiding his own love-struck gaze from Jinho.

“I’ll just,” Hongseok starts, then, unsure of what else to say, awkwardly returns inside.

There’s a weird silence among the rest of them before Jinho says, “Me too,” and walks off.

When Jinho is a good distance away, Yuto whispers (just in case) to Hyunggu, “What does that mean?”

Hyunggu whispers back, “I don’t know. Old people are weird.”

“Tell me about it.”

That seems to catalyze something in Hyunggu’s head because his eyes light up again in realization. “I was! Going to tell you something, that is, but then I got distracted. Hold out your hand.”

Hyunggu’s eyes are too goddamn sparkly not to oblige, so Yuto does as he’s told. With an expert flick of his fingers, Hyunggu enchants one of his bracelets to slip off his wrist and float onto Yuto’s—a stretch of spider silk strung through pieces of jade in changing shades, like beads of molten color that remind Yuto of home.

“Mom likes to send me things whenever she’s abroad,” Hyunggu quips, glancing at his own identical bracelet. “When I got this in the mail, I immediately thought of you. She tells me it’s supposed to keep you safe from bad energies and raise good ones. This is traditional jewelry from where you used to live, right?”

Yuto vaguely wonders if Hyunggu also cast a binding rune on Yuto’s throat, because he can’t find any words to express how grateful he feels.

“Good thing she sent me more than one,” Hyunggu adds with a small smile, an unadulterated love for his mother so sweet and pure in his voice. “She always says it’s more fun to share things that make me happy with other people. I think so, too.”

It takes a good second before Yuto realizes that Hyunggu is looking directly at him.

But Yuto’s inability to cohere sounds into words into sentences into feelings doesn’t bode well with Hyunggu, whose expression quickly falters. “Oh no, that’s weird, isn’t it? It’s been less than a week and I’m already talking to you about my mom and giving you jewelry. I don’t even know if you _like_ jewelry. I just assumed, from the earrings—” Hyunggu sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“No it’s totally fine!” Yuto says hastily. “It’s, um, I’m—”

He struggles to find the translation for _It feels like longer than a week,_ or _I think you’re the kindest person I’ve ever met,_ or _My heart is about to burst and it’s your fault but I think that’s okay because it’s you._

Instead, Yuto settles on, “I like the bracelet. Reminds me of home.”

God, it sounds so lame in Yuto’s head. He wants to slap himself for saying something so uncharismatic and boring.

But, by some miracle, it’s enough to bring the light back to Hyunggu’s face, to change his hair from the yellowy-orange Yuto didn’t notice until then to a bright, bright red.

“I’m glad,” Hyunggu says, all handsome and cute and smiling That Smile again. But more sweetly—more something Yuto can’t seem to translate, either.

 

 

 

“Okay, so I know he has two cats.”

“Familiars, but whatever.”

“Does he have a broom as well?” Yuto asks as he rifles through the shelf of order pick-ups. “Like, a magical one?”

“Would a witch have a magic broom in this day and age?” Shinwon is rolling his eyes from behind the front desk. “What do you think, loverboy?”

Yuto finds and nearly drops Shinwon’s order.

“Of _course_ he has one,” Shinwon drawls with exaggerated effort. “It’s, like, a social sin for a witch to not have a magic broom. What do you kids even learn in the academies these days?”

“Not to harass young workers who clearly don’t know any better, that’s for sure,” Yuto mumbles under his breath while calculating the tax for Shinwon’s bill. “A pointy hat, too?” he inquires more loudly.

Shinwon groans as if Yuto just answered his own question. Worth a shot.

“If you must know,” Shinwon says out of the blue because Yuto most definitely did not ask to know, “Hyunggu is a total sap. Loves roses and everything rose-scented. He also likes books—hoards them like a cat lady, which he already kind of is, actually. Oh! And poetry, lots and lots of poetry, especially from the mer people—”

Yuto hands over the receipt and hair conditioning charm. “And I would need to know that, why?”

Shinwon gives Yuto another look, except this time it’s actually sympathetic. Or piteous. It’s hard to parse.

When he hands over the payment, Shinwon flutters his fingers the way fake magicians do until a single rose, lush and a vivid red, delicately materializes from the air and floats onto the coins in Yuto’s hand.

“From loverboy,” Shinwon says with a flamboyant heel turn and “Keep the change!” as he leaves the shop.

“Doesn’t he mean _for_ loverboy?” Yuto asks himself. He wrinkles his face at the acknowledgement of the nickname.

 

 

 

The autumnal-winter rush comes too early—too strong to handle at first. (There’s an innuendo somewhere in there, but Yuto is too exhausted to enjoy it properly.)

No longer is it filled with innocent holiday-goers hoping to add stronger spirits to their celebrations. Now, it’s become a time period of unquenchable hormones and single millennials hoping to be less single this intermediary season.

Yuto doesn’t know whether it’s a good or bad thing that Hyojong knows exactly what charms to sell with this…unexpected change of customer patterns. But Yuto is finally getting paid for overtime, so he supposes that the situation is bearable.

It’s an ungodly hour by the time Yuto has returned for the marketplace the second time this week. He is mentally prepared this time to haggle-battle over rare spices with talking trees until he finds himself stopping in front of Rose & Clover, the door sign for which is turned to OPEN. The wards don’t seem closed, either.

Maybe he should take this chance to say hello. Before he becomes too busy with work, of course.

“Good morning,” Yuto calls out with a bow upon entrance. The wards jingle delightedly in response. “I’m sorry if you guys aren’t open yet. The sign says you are though?”

The shop is quiet, save for the ceiling chimes shifting once in a while. The glass bottles are gleaming in the morning light, casting angular lights on the walls of brick and wood, like a kaleidoscope of colors and scents—today is moon lilies, asters, and dragon’s tails. Like childhood.

Magic is something creatures capable of it have become desensitized to these days, but something about Hyunggu’s shop at this hour reminds Yuto of how beautiful magic is.

Suddenly, something presses against his legs. Survival instincts should tell him to be more startled, but his softie heart makes him crouch down and scratch the purring cat— _familiar_ by the ear.

“I’d like to think you’re the one named Rose,” Yuto says, admiring its burgundy coat, “But I’ve been wrong on more than one occasion.”

Maybe-Rose mewls back, perhaps in affirmation.

“Do you mind showing me where Hyunggu is?” Yuto requests gently.

After another indulgent nuzzle against Yuto’s shoe, Rose begins padding away with the sort of grace Yuto can easily imagine in its owner. She meets Clover further away, and together they lead Yuto through the shop.

For the purportedly troublesome felines Rose and Clover are (and for the ancient demonic powers lurking behind their glossy eyes), Yuto thinks they are very lovely companions.

As Yuto walks on, he quickly realizes just now big the place is for what it’s meant to be. Spells for spatial enlargement are common, especially where rent can only afford so much. But something about the endless array of glass bottles, and the artful placement of quirky plants, and just the overall _warmth_ of the store rings something inexplicable in Yuto’s chest.

Rose meows—quite noisily, almost in impatience—as they approach the back.

Which is where Hyunggu is sat, behind some work desk with dull hair in a rather impressive bird’s nest of disarray, eyes a little more swollen than usual, and cheek squished from the palm he’s leaning on. There’s a myriad of colors and light and magic around him, and yet Hyunggu is the puzzle piece that completes the world he’s built in this humble little space.

Surely, it’s impossible for mere mortals to look so arresting at all times of the day. Is this a perk of specializing in demon magic? Yuto should rethink his specialization choices.

Rose mewls again.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time,” Hyunggu grumbles, “I’ll get the teapot started as soon as— Yuto!”

The moment he spots Yuto (who thanks every deity for being groomed today), Hyunggu quickly scrambles into a straighter sitting position and claps his hands so the nearby hairbrush starts brushing his hair. Even if the edges look tired, Hyunggu’s smile is still as bright and warm as the morning sun.

“What brings you here?” Hyunggu says, voice endearingly rusty and soft. “It’s kind of early to be doing some shopping.”

“I wanted to say hi before Hyojong and I get swamped with orders.” Yuto scratches his neck. “So, uh, hi?”

Hyunggu chuckles, maybe fondly. “Hello to you, too,” he returns, but then his eyes widen before he covers them, and his face, with his hands. “I’m sorry you had to see this. I’m usually a lot more, um.”

“Put together?” Yuto supplies.

“I was going for ‘awake,’ but that works, too.” Hyunggu curls into himself a little and makes a quiet whining noise that completely melts Yuto’s insides. “Ugh, this is so embarrassing. This is definitely in the top ten least-proudest moments of my life. Least-proudest? Great, I can’t even articulate.” Hyunggu makes that whiny sound again.

Yuto has reached a point where smiling until it hurts is no longer a rarity, and perhaps Yuto’s guard and inhibitions have taken a suspiciously extended vacation as of late. But something compels Yuto to set his empty bags on the ground, walk over to Hyunggu, and grab the brush that’s honestly doing a terrible job of being a brush.

Hyunggu stills. “Yuto?”

“Remind me to not call you during morning emergencies,” Yuto says without venom as he manually brushes through Kino’s tangles. “Your magic channeling is atrocious when you’re half-awake.”

The statement is true, so much so that Yuto has enough time to catch the redness of Hyunggu’s neck before it’s spelled away. But Hyunggu doesn’t push Yuto aside (lord knows he could and then some). Hyunggu doesn’t even say anything as Yuto works through his hair. It’s the same wine-like color as Rose. Or maybe Clover. Yuto still doesn’t know.

When he steps back, Yuto realizes the magnitude—and the _intimacy—_ of what he’d just done.

“I’m sorry,” he says hastily, setting the brush down and bowing his head in earnest. “That was totally uncalled for and I didn’t even ask for your permission and it’s not my place to judge what hairstyle you were going for—”

“It’s nice,” Hyunggu firmly interjects, looking in the nearby mirror. “It’s much better now. Thank you.”

“You’re…welcome?” Yuto settles on. “I still have some errands to run, but, uh, yeah. Good luck with work today. Oh! And, um, thank you for the, uh, rose.”

“The what— oh. _Oh.”_ Hyunggu’s hair turns a shade slightly darker. “You’re also welcome,” he echoes, smiling.

The dust particles around Hyunggu are glowing and _Hyunggu’s_ glowing and _god_ all Yuto wants to do is stare for an inappropriately long time so he can burn everything onto the backs so his eyelids. But he knows he should really get to the spice tents before the prices get wild, so he gathers up his things and sends Hyunggu an awkward wave farewell.

“See you around?” Hyunggu says, fully awake this time. “Under more ideal circumstances, I hope.”

“I hope so,” Yuto says over his shoulder.

 

 

 

Wooseok does something stupid again and Yuto’s kind of annoyed because Wooseok usually saves the stupid things for 9am-5pm work days, which a supposed-to-be lazy Sunday is not.

When he arrives at the Jungs’ house after a particularly obnoxious emergency call, Yuto expects to see another shadow wraith wreaking havoc on clothes lines, or fire imps destroying crops, or a succubus seducing everyone in a kilometer radius into blissful oblivion. He remembers that last one in great, unfortunate detail.

What he doesn’t expect is to see Hyunggu sharing tea and a riveting chat with Hwitaek, the Jungs’ next-door neighbor. In front of the Jungs’ place. Which is apparently covered in vicious, thorny vines.

“Afternoon, Yuto,” Hwitaek greets, oddly at peace with the situation. His voice sounds strange. “Have you met Hyunggu yet? He’s, like, such a sweetie pie. The _sweetest_ pie. I could just eat him up! Couldn’t you?”

Suspiciousness wins out on embarrassment this time around. Hwitaek’s eyes don’t look right. Yuto glances at Hyunggu, who hasn’t touched his own tea.

“It was really nice finally meeting you, Mr. Hwitaek,” Hyunggu says, surreptitiously tossing his tea into the grass. “But now that Yuto’s here, I think we should get to work now, hm?”

Hwitaek is swaying a little. “Sweetie pie, cutie pie, cherry pie—”

Hyunggu forcibly drags Yuto by the arm (he really is stronger than he looks) before Yuto can start lecturing him about the ethical consequences of using magic-infused tea to put the Jungs’ neighbor into a drunk-like stupor.

“He was manic by the time I got here,” Hyunggu tries to reason.

“And you just so happen to carry around enchanted tea with you?” Yuto says, voice almost hysterical. “Wait, did Hwitaek call you here? How do you know Hwitaek?”

“Everybody knows Hwitaek,” Hyunggu answers, and Yuto can’t argue with that. “He went into my shop looking for a cure to writer’s block. It’s not something one can cure, exactly, but I gave him something to clear his head and he’s been coddling me ever since.”

“Okay, but why are you here?”

Hyunggu starts distractedly rummaging through his bag, biting his lip in concentration.

“Hyunggu?”

Then he pulls out a velvet pouch with a drawing of a single, creepy, _blinking_ eye. In contrast, Hyunggu looks as peachy as ever.

He tosses some silver powder from the pouch onto the tendrils blocking the front door and, after a few spells, the vines start hissing the most inhumane and skin-tingling noise Yuto has ever heard. Then they start curling away.

“Oh shush,” Hyunggu scolds the plants, which seem to hiss back at him. He turns the doorknob and gestures Yuto inside. “Demon vines,” he explains and _ah_. Right. Hyunggu specializes in plant _and_ demon magic. It’s hard to remember that sometimes, with all the teeth and happiness and sparkles.

Yuto and his battle-ready wand feel awkwardly unhelpful as Hyunggu rinses and repeats what he did at the front door on pretty much everything inside the house.

“So, how’ve you been? Are you eating okay? Sleeping enough?” Hyunggu asks conversationally after a particularly aggressive vine almost beheaded him five minutes ago. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while, which is weird considering close we are.”

As in distance-close or _close-_ close? Yuto doesn’t trust himself to clarify.

“The seasonal rush was intense,” Yuto says after a while, thinking it safe to say. “More than Hyojong and I anticipated. He’s usually really good at reading demand, but he didn’t predict the sharp rise of certain holiday charms trends.”

Another vine accelerates out of nowhere and Hyunggu flicks it off like a leaf. “What kind of trends?” he asks, genuinely curious.

“Oh, um, you know.” The bracelet on his wrist feels heavy suddenly. “Charms for brighter lights, for cleaner snow, and for, uh…”

Yuto mumbles.

“What was that?” Hyunggu says.

Yuto mumbles a little louder.

“Sorry, you’ll have to speak louder,” Hyunggu presses.

“More stamina,” Yuto replies, face on the brink of melting off at this point.

“Well,” Hyunggu says, clearing his throat. The tips of his ears are glowing, “People get more easily tired that time of year, I suppose. It’s understandable that they’d want to fix…that. For the holidays.”

“Fix what, lethargy or impotence?”

Hyunggu makes a noise between a choke and a gasp.

“Sorry,” Yuto mutters. “Just annoyed that I’ve been robbed of what was meant to be a quiet Sunday.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Hyunggu’s voice drops to something quieter, lavender-silver hair turning a shade pinker, “I’m having fun. Spending time with you.”

“Oh,” Yuto says softly, heartbeat unsure of how to react. “Me too.”

They don’t exchange more words after that, focusing their attention on climbing the staircase without tripping over green knots and blasting away any vines with the audacity to get nosy with them. Yuto wouldn’t classify the silence as awkward, per say, but he’s always been terrible at reading atmospheres.

He can tell that they’ve reached Wooseok’s room by the color of the thorny vines—a deeper, angrier shade of violet with a scaly texture almost that of a snake’s.

“I swear, warlock families have some of the most irrational bloodlines ever,” Hyunggu gripes to himself as he traces foreign symbols onto the vines. “And people wonder why witches don’t like being confused with warlocks.”

Yuto is about to ask for some education on the matter, but Hyunggu starts backing up into Yuto’s personal space _oh lord_ so they’re both against the wall of the hallway. But Yuto doesn’t have much time to think about how ideal their height difference is, or to admire the trace scents of Hyunggu’s profession on his skin (which would be totally creepy), because Wooseok’s door promptly blows up for probably the fifth time to date.

“That’s going to leave a draft,” Yuto notes.

“It better,” Hyunggu says with biting regret. “I wasted all my good fairy salts.”

Yuto dispels the smoke with a swipe of his wand to reveal Wooseok, crouched over a heptagram from which the vines are growing, and he’s holding a…smartphone? Set on video mode?

“Wooseok!” Yuto yells, grabbing the young warlock’s attention. “What the hell, man?”

“What the hell is right!” Hyunggu scolds, striding up to an unimpressed Wooseok and pointing a finger at his nose. “Demon vines aren’t something you can just play with! They are dangerous and bloodthirsty and full of lethal poisons—”

“Lethal poisons—” Yuto echoes, hurriedly checking himself for any punctures.

“—and could seriously lower the resale value of this house!”

Yuto pauses. This is not what he expected, but maybe expectations were the wrong move in the first place.

“Honestly, the real estate in this area is going to blow up in a decade or two, but no one’s buying a house that could possibly poison them.” Hyunggu crosses his arms and shakes his head, apparently more disappointed in Wooseok’s lack of financial precognition than the (emotional) damage he’s caused. “You really need to be taking better care of your family’s property.”

Wooseok shrugs. “My parents say the same thing.”

“Why can’t you have normal hobbies,” Yuto comments dryly as he dashes away the heptagram’s chalk lines with his boot. “Why can’t anyone here have normal hobbies. Like stitching. Or collecting stamps.”

“I was trying to do a non-mag fad that was popular from a while back,” Wooseok explains, both an innocent and dangerous glint in his smirk.

Yuto sighs. _First the knife song challenge, and now this._ “What was it called this time?” he asks with inevitable dread.

“‘Doing it for the vine,’” Wooseok says, “Or something like that.”

Yuto loves Wooseok. He really does. But, in that moment, he wants nothing more than to personally deliver Wooseok to the fiery pits of where the Jungs’ ancestors were conceived.

In the end, Hyunggu uses up all of Wooseok’s demonic chalk collection to de-summon the vines, and Mr. and Mrs. Jung return home to Hwitaek passed out on their front yard. All in all, it wasn’t the most eventful day Yuto has ever had, but it’s definitely a hot contender for one of the most memorable days he’s ever experienced—for better or for worse.

“Now that I think about,” Hyunggu says, across from Yuto at the pub they’ve stopped at for dinner, “That was actually kind of fun!”

Yuto says nothing over his soup.

Hyunggu frowns. “Not even a little fun?”

“…only a little.”

Yuto fights Hyunggu for the bill and wins. Hyunggu doesn’t even try to win, but given how useless Yuto was today, it’s a victory he unashamedly tucks into his belt for later.

Yeah, he supposes today wasn’t so bad.

 

 

 

“This is the _worst_.”

“Oh, come on,” Hyojong chastises from his work table. “It’s not that bad.”

“Say that again when you’re manning the front of the shop and all you see for two weeks straight is _goop_ ,” Yuto argues back as he aggressively wipes down the display window. “I didn’t think I’d prefer Jinho’s hostility over anything, but Jinho’s swearing gives me less nightmares than his flirting.”

“I think it’s cute!” Hyojong quips, endlessly amused. “He’s cute by nature but being around Hongseok makes Jinho a different kind of cute.”

“You mean this makes it easier to avoid rent again.”

“I neither confirm nor deny.”

The sickliness of Jinho and Hongseok’s courtship would be more bearable if the past few weeks weren’t so slow. Yuto sighs and throws his cleaning rag at Hyojong. “Can you watch the shop?”

“Why?”

Yuto yawns a little. “I’m going to see what Hyunggu’s up to.” He ignores Hyojong’s suggestive whistles.

Luckily, Hongseok and Jinho are walking towards Changgu’s sweets shop by the time Yuto starts heading down the road. The two seemed too wrapped up in each other to notice him anyway. Yuto’s teeth are gathering cavities at the sight.

The protection wards chime when he enters, the notes sounding oddly happier than the last time Yuto visited. Then again, it’s easy being a little delusional in a world of magic.

There are a few customers in the shop—mostly students—murmuring comparisons between aroma bottles or playing with Rose and Clover near the fresh hydrangeas. Yuto can still hear the chimes above the quiet buzz of conversations, and Hyunggu’s peppy voice is explaining something somewhere in the background.

Yuto decides to sit on the couch, but he quickly realizes how much he underestimated his overtime before he yields to the enticing calls of sleep.

In all honesty, considering where he fell asleep, Yuto should have expected to wake up to Hyunggu smiling at him from above like an angel (whose hobbies include perfumery and witchcraft, apparently). That isn’t what Yuto wakes up to, exactly, but it seems close enough.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” Hyunggu greets softly, sitting next to Yuto, eyes all crinkly like the first time they had met. “Feeling rested?”

Yuto sits up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He mumbles something of an affirmation, to which Hyunggu laughs.

“You’re so adorable, I could kiss you,” Hyunggu says quietly, offhandedly, grinning so hard and only to himself because maybe he thinks Yuto is still too asleep to comprehend words. Then it dawns on him—and Yuto—what exact words he just uttered.

It doesn’t take long for Yuto to feel significantly more awake.

“What was that?” he presses, doing his darned best to keep his heart from bursting out of his ribcage. “What did you say?”

Hyunggu fervently shakes his head, hand clamped over his mouth and eyes squeezed so shut they don’t even open to Yuto’s nudging spells. Long eyelashes, eye-crinkles, and— _there_ it is—Hyunggu’s hair is now a dark red rose shade. Geez. How does one person look so good in so many hair colors? Yuto can barely pull off black sometimes and it’s all he wears.

He decides to place a hand on Hyunggu’s wrist, where the matching bracelet sits. Hyunggu doesn’t pull away.

“Hey,” Yuto says gently. His face is back on the stove today with how warm it feels.

Hyunggu shakes his head. “Don’t do that,” he says, muffled.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t be so _sweet_ to me. It’s— I’m—” Hyunggu surrenders with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“That’s me most of the time around you,” Yuto supplies on instinct. The comment makes Hyunggu fully bury his face in his hands. “I mean, how do you even talk to someone who can make every room they’re in so bright? _Without_ magic, too. It’s kind of weird.”

“I never claimed to be anything otherwise,” Hyunggu argues helplessly, his cheeks sticking out just slightly because he’s definitely smiling behind his hands. When he finally lifts his head, Hyunggu really is smiling. “Did Shinwon ever tell you about the rose he gave you? Well, the one I gave you. In theory.”

Yuto narrows his eyes. “Did you infuse it with something? I don’t want to find out that you’ve been planning on feeding me to appease your demon overlord.”

“Mine’s gone vegetarian lately, don’t worry.” Hyunggu chuckles awkwardly and clears his throat. “The rose, it, um, that particular species may or may not be a natural producer of what— _ahem_ —what love potions and perfumes are typically made of? But I promise that wasn’t my intention! I was about to do the dumb ‘he likes me, he likes me not’ thing with a rose before Shinwon snatched it from me and gave it to you.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he wanted you to like me, maybe? He gets an earful from me a lot.”

“About?”

“About,” Hyunggu says carefully, “About you, I guess.”

“I mean,” Yuto says, looking down at his lap. Staring at the sun for too long is dangerous, after all. “He—you?—didn’t have to use any kind of magic since I already do. Like you, that is.”

Yuto coughs into his fist. Hyunggu gasps.

“You like me?” is the giddy question, the hopeful grin, the crescent eyes on Hyunggu’s sunshine face that Yuto is always happy seeing no matter what time of day it is. “Since when! Gods, knowing this would’ve saved me so much worrying. I do that a lot, you know.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not really good with words.” Yuto sure wants to dig himself into the warm confines of the earth but the hearts shooting from Hyunggu’s eyes make the surface world seem a little more bearable. “And I’ve liked you since you moved in, maybe? Yeah, I think so.”

“I’m so dumb,” Hyunggu says, taking Yuto’s hand in his and curling their fingers together. A spark of magic surges through Yuto’s arm. “We’re so dumb.”

The closer Hyunggu gets to Yuto’s face, the darker and darker his hair becomes, until it’s nearly the color of both raven feathers and starlit ink. He manages to look breathtaking all the same.

Hyunggu chuckles, the softness of his breath like a puff of ambrosia across Yuto’s face.

Yuto notices Hyunggu close his eyes before he does. Their entwined hands tug tighter and Yuto _swears_ Hyunggu makes some kind of noise—in anticipation? Excitement? Relief? Maybe a mix of them all. No matter what it is, Yuto doesn’t have time to process it because Hyunggu is kissing him.

He’d expected Hyunggu’s lips to be inhumanly soft, seeing as the rest of him seems to be sometimes. But they’re surprisingly a bit chapped, even trembling in the way they’re pressed against Yuto’s lips, as if still unsure whether doing so is okay.

And Yuto is definitely more than okay with this. Especially if it happens more than once. With increasing enthusiasm.

When they separate, Yuto can’t help but to press their foreheads together. He feels like a mess inside, and hearing Hyunggu giggle— _giggle_ —in the afterglow makes Yuto feel even more like a mess. The best mess.

“Hyojong should promote you from apprenticeship,” Hyunggu says, more than happy to let Clover and Rose climb onto their laps. “You’re a lot better at charms than you think—magical and non-magical.”

Yuto twists his face. “That’s gross.”

Hyunggu elbows him. “Buddy, I’m pretty sure we passed ‘gross’ a long time ago.”

“Only buddy?”

Hyunggu whistles lowly, snapping his fingers to switch the door sign from OPEN to CLOSED. “You know what? I’m still a little unconvinced. Do you have any charms for disbelief?”

“You live in a world of magic, and that’s something you still struggle with?”

When Hyunggu pouts, Yuto rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Yuto concedes with feigned effort. “Maybe this charm will help.”

And he kisses Hyunggu again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading this self-indulgent sop lemme know what you think xx
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> [tumblr](https://aijee.tumblr.com)


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